Tilting at Windmills...

I was reunited with Molly today, for an hour long group lesson, which I shared with one other person.  End result: it was even more knackering than a half-hour private.  I think I'm improving a bit, but I've still got a long way to go...

Pottery update:after a good wash and brush-up, my medieval pottery revealed itself to be the ubiquitous White Gritty Ware (known sneeringly in some quarters as 'Grotty gritty', or even 'sh**ty gritty - which seems rather unfair, because there's some rather nice White Gritty pottery out there...).  This suggests that my site was being cultivated at some time between the 12th and the 14th centuries, the bits of pot being chucked out with the rest of the midden material during manuring. It doesn't really say very much more than that, but I'm quite pleased with my sherds - one was comb-decorated with a couple of squiggly lines, and rim sherds are always fun.  This one probably came from a jug or a flagon.

Moving swiftly, and rather neatly, on to medieval Crete (!), I promised you some posts on Cretan medieval architecture. Now, since I devoted yesterday's post to Paisley mills, and since I was digging on a potential mill site, I shall turn my attention to Cretan mills.  There was a Cretan water mill that we passed in the bus on the way to Phaistos, but unfortunately I had no time to linger there, so I'll talk about windmills instead.

When I noticed my first Cretan windmill, I assumed it was a watchtower or defensive fortification, as it was perched high on the top of a hilltop ridge.  To my amazement, I soon discovered these structures formed a line along the ridge, sometimes occurring in considerable numbers. 

Here's a view of a line of windmills which overloos the pass into the Lasithi Plateau:-
 

 

Many of them were this distinctive boat-shape, with its rounded 'prow' and stubby stern.  They were built during the time of the Venetian occupation (12th - 16th century, which makes them contemporary with my white gritty pottery!!) but many of them continued in use until the 1950s, much as our small water mills remained in use in Scotland until around the same time.

A closer view of a particularly well-preserved example:-

 

And most of exciting of all was this one.  The door was open, I couldn't even see inside but I took a photo for the hell of it.  And this was my reward!!!

 

Yes, a fully intact set of mill machinery, very simple in design, and quite similar to the kind of stuff that we'd have had in our medieval mills.  Sometimes it pays to wander a little bit off the beaten track, and to be nosey, too...

And, just to prove that they can do mills that aren't boat-shaped, here's another example from eastern Crete, which is a much more familiar round form.
 

 

I suppose this one's a bit more technologically advanced, in that it features a rotating cap, which allows the sails to move to catch the wind.  The 'boat-shaped' examples rely on the fact that the winds are, more often than not, funnelled in a specific direction...

I must admit, I quite like industrial archaeology.  You can probably tell...
 

Tilting at Windmills...

I was reunited with Molly today, for an hour long group lesson, which I shared with one other person.  End result: it was even more knackering than a half-hour private.  I think I'm improving a bit, but I've still got a long way to go...

Pottery update:after a good wash and brush-up, my medieval pottery revealed itself to be the ubiquitous White Gritty Ware (known sneeringly in some quarters as 'Grotty gritty', or even 'sh**ty gritty - which seems rather unfair, because there's some rather nice White Gritty pottery out there...).  This suggests that my site was being cultivated at some time between the 12th and the 14th centuries, the bits of pot being chucked out with the rest of the midden material during manuring. It doesn't really say very much more than that, but I'm quite pleased with my sherds - one was comb-decorated with a couple of squiggly lines, and rim sherds are always fun.  This one probably came from a jug or a flagon.

Moving swiftly, and rather neatly, on to medieval Crete (!), I promised you some posts on Cretan medieval architecture. Now, since I devoted yesterday's post to Paisley mills, and since I was digging on a potential mill site, I shall turn my attention to Cretan mills.  There was a Cretan water mill that we passed in the bus on the way to Phaistos, but unfortunately I had no time to linger there, so I'll talk about windmills instead.

When I noticed my first Cretan windmill, I assumed it was a watchtower or defensive fortification, as it was perched high on the top of a hilltop ridge.  To my amazement, I soon discovered these structures formed a line along the ridge, sometimes occurring in considerable numbers. 

Here's a view of a line of windmills which overloos the pass into the Lasithi Plateau:-
 

 

Many of them were this distinctive boat-shape, with its rounded 'prow' and stubby stern.  They were built during the time of the Venetian occupation (12th - 16th century, which makes them contemporary with my white gritty pottery!!) but many of them continued in use until the 1950s, much as our small water mills remained in use in Scotland until around the same time.

A closer view of a particularly well-preserved example:-

 

And most of exciting of all was this one.  The door was open, I couldn't even see inside but I took a photo for the hell of it.  And this was my reward!!!

 

Yes, a fully intact set of mill machinery, very simple in design, and quite similar to the kind of stuff that we'd have had in our medieval mills.  Sometimes it pays to wander a little bit off the beaten track, and to be nosey, too...

And, just to prove that they can do mills that aren't boat-shaped, here's another example from eastern Crete, which is a much more familiar round form.
 

 

I suppose this one's a bit more technologically advanced, in that it features a rotating cap, which allows the sails to move to catch the wind.  The 'boat-shaped' examples rely on the fact that the winds are, more often than not, funnelled in a specific direction...

I must admit, I quite like industrial archaeology.  You can probably tell...